DESTINATION

PROPHECY

"together in dreams

way before we even talked

before we were one

a prophecy became real

as a shadow loomed behind"

-102718

"Summer."

"Summer? I don't get it."

"Nothing. I just felt like you're summer."

"What the hell? That's not a nice thing to say. I'm not going to be your summer."

No matter how many times I try and close my eyes, count endless amount of sheep, I can't find a way to drift to another reality. Instead, my mind is piling of images of yesterday that are out of reach. I don't know if it's because I'll see her tomorrow night that lead me to this endless amount of material to bug me and keep me awake. I don't know what to feel actually. I don't know if I'm excited, nervous, or whatever it is that I should feel about it. I actually feel nothing. Every bit of hope and joy that I had earlier are somehow clouded by this sensation of drifting from one memory to another.

Maybe I'm just over thinking too much or maybe it's just the coffee that got me in this situation. It's almost two in the morning, and I don't know what to exactly do. I am in no mood to talk with Gin about my feelings or anything else, and I'm not even in the mood to watch a movie to calm me down.

After another few minutes of staring blankly at the empty spaces between the movie posters I placed in the ceiling of my room, I decided to sit and grab a cigarette. I really don't like smoking without music, it just feels empty and nonsensical in my opinion. I grab my head phones and decided to listen to "Madness" by Muse and I grab one of my oldest notebooks.

It's a simple notebook my sister gave me way back when I was just starting in college. I don't really write school notes in expensive notebooks. I find it undeserving of such space, that's why the notebook became a journal of mine. I rarely write dream entries as of today, due to the dark story arcs and painful images that I got myself into during such dreams. Whenever that such event takes place in my dreams, I just let it be forgotten and not written at all. It's selective memory I think, I forgot the exact term for it.

I move from one page to another, browsing each dream and reading fully those that I really liked. I almost forgot about my first crush back in college, actually, my first love in college, Hale. Things didn't work out on us even on a friendship level due to the fact that she found out that I was smoking back then. Ever since then, we barely even talk and we just pass by one another during our classes like none of us existed in each other's world. The interesting about it is how different it was when I'm dreaming. For some reason, she became a mainstay in my dreams. Sometimes a silhouette, a date, a conversation, her smile and her stories were all there. But none of it really took place, and it was a trigger to my melancholic state back then. Until I realized that maybe the reason as to why she keeps showing up in my dreams randomly, even up to this date, is to remind me of the chances I didn't even get the chance to take, due to not taking care of myself. It was a lesson that I put into good use just as I met Jasmine years after.

I let out a smoke every now and then. Somehow, it's much clearer than what I feel right now. The music in my ears found its way to my mind and there I am, at that very page where I wrote an entry about that dream. It was madness. I can't understand what was happening in that dream, it was us before there was even an us to begin with. It was a lovely dream back then, a melancholic one today.

I remembered that one time where we were still just friends and talking about movies and all that stuff, I told her that she was my Summer for the very reason that she keeps insisting that we should just be friends and not lovers way back then. The sheer mention of the name was like a switch to turn on her mad reflexes, as she decided to not talk to me for a day after that conversation.

In reality, she really is Summer. But at the same time, she was also my winter, spring, and fall. She was the season of my life that I hoped would never end. I know for a fact that there are times when it is bright, times when it is cold, times that are blooming with endless treasures, and times where pieces of us are on the ground.

She was indeed every single season there is, but just like all these seasons, they are a cycle. And what made it worse is the fact that when fall came, the tree that I was fell with all the leaves I had. The cyclic nature of our relationship took a heavy toll on us, and we didn't survive.

I closed the notebook and extinguished my cigarette at my ash tray. As the music faded, I got myself in a world of Madness, and how I still feel the urge that within that very madness, there's peace looming behind the shadows of who we were when we were together and who we are now that we don't have one another.